London Girls

London Girls by Neil McCall

I'd scorn these wage-slave business girls
suited like men, leaping grade to grade
smashing glass ceilings with their pointed heels
banking self-esteem; look how well they're paid!
Not that they'd have grand designs on me;
they've long since left me standing in their dust.
They only want what's good for their C.V.
And pair for power; not for love or even lust.

But you; whether you possess a job, a house, a car
I do not know, nor greatly do I care.
And if you nurse a searing secret scar
of divorce, betrayal, I would soothe it there
and bear your scatty beauty;
though you're seamed with unmet need,
I'd meld my half-cocked listless life with yours.
For when I write these things, you read.